


Shattered Glass

by Shadowhunter4life821



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Anxiety, Depression, F/M, M/M, and i'm sorry if it triggers anyone, but this is what i came up with, emotionally abusive relationship, mention of fatphobia, phandomreversebang
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-21
Updated: 2019-02-21
Packaged: 2019-11-01 18:52:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17872877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadowhunter4life821/pseuds/Shadowhunter4life821
Summary: In her absence, Dan tries to pick up the broken pieces.Edit 10/6/19: hey it's been a while, i will still update i promise but just very sparingly and in big chunks. i have other priorities other than this especially since the fandom is so dead nowadays but one way or another i will finish





	Shattered Glass

introduction.  
Tell me about your love  
How does it fade  
And how does it grow

Dan throws down his pen in defeat. The wounds are still fresh, no matter how hard he tries to forget. Not that he tries anyway. He can’t move on, and sometimes he doesn’t. It’s confusing. Every piece of work, and it’s about.. Her. ‘But then again,’ Dan thought, ‘It’s always about her, isn’t it.’ Sighing, he glances around the room, at the pile of clothes he can’t be bothered to wash. It was easier, back then, when she was there to remind him to be normal. To be human.

They said it wasn’t healthy, and choruses of ‘Dan you need to move on, she would be proud of you if you did,’ and ‘Why do you still love her, despite everything?’ pours down from the sky every time he opens the curtains to look at the clouds.

So he doesn’t.

The room is shrouded in darkness, and the silence lays heavy amongst the unwritten words spilling from Dan’s brain. They whisper and they sigh, hidden behind a pair of weathered eyes, a soul that’s older than its heart. And the heart is caged by its heartstrings-

No. He should stop. Maybe go downstairs for some coffee. But not spiral. He doesn’t want a repeat of last time’s disaster. His phone buzzes, but he doesn’t bother to even spare a glance. What’s the use, when you already know who’s going to be on the other end? A bunch of useless texts from irrelevant people who are trying too hard to save him. It’s best to not get involved. He knows it’s rude, that he should at least let them reach him, but right now? He doesn’t give a fuck. 

Some say he’s crazy, behind their polite smiles and friendly waves. Others know the truth, that he’s broken from the grasp of a femme fatale, but as easy as it might seem to be to pick himself up and just keep walking again, it isn’t. Every day is a chore, too much for him to handle, yet also too little, the emptiness of each day leering and jeering.

He looks into the mirror, desperate for any grasp on reality, if just not to spiral again, and looking back at him is a pitiful shadow of his former self. His brown eyes that used to light up whenever she was around were now dull and uninteresting.

You’re just so boring Dan, how did I put up with you for so long?

His face was sunken and hollow, and somewhere deep down, Dan liked it. It’s perverted, but whenever she would see the body fat rolling down his body, wouldn’t she recoil and jeer? Isn’t it better now?

Do you even try? Look at Louise, do you want to be her?

Lifting up his arm, he tugs limply at the droopy hair framing his face, and lets it go again, watching it flop back onto his face. Usually his hair would frizz if he neglected it, but it was as if his mood had affected his hair too.

Leave it straight, the curls are hideous.

As Dan steps into the shower, he tries hard not to think. Just letting the water rush over him, and cleaning off the filth that’s been gathering on his skin for- how many days now? Three? Five? No one would notice, and so he doesn’t bother. The water is slightly tinged brown, a true indicator of how disgusting he was. Atrocious.

Gently massaging the shampoo into his scalp, he watched the water rolling down from the glass pane. Water. Has he drunk any? Does he care? His therapist would scold him and bring him a jug of water, making him promise to stay hydrated and try to be positive. He always says he’ll try, but the moment he steps out of her office, he’s enveloped in another one of his depressive moods, going over everything he said wrong in the session, being reminded of the hideous world that lives outside of his own mind. 

His therapist. He’s forgetting something. He just doesn’t know what. Dan racks his brain for an answer- and then suddenly it hits him. His therapist. That’s why something was off. He’s missed five meetings by now. He hates how he knows that just because he’s been counting every day since she left him.

The first few days were the hardest. Every day was a mess. He didn’t eat, spent the whole week in one outfit, and whenever he wasn’t crying or asleep, he was just sitting at his writing table, getting angry and frustrated that he couldn’t use this emotion to write anything. Dan didn’t get it. Usually when he was depressed or sad or well- when he was feeling any emotion to the extreme, words would pour out of him and it helped. A lot. 

It’s like even his brain is punishing him for fucking up. And it would be right, it would be his fault. That’s what she always said anyway. 

All of a sudden, waves of sadness and regret washed over Dan. Literally. He'd been standing under the showerhead for fifteen minutes. What would they all say? World renowned author, Daniel Howell, found dead in his own shower after breakup. His fans would be devastated. His family would blame themselves. 

He couldn't care less. Water cascading down his body, he stood there and cried, letting the tears mingle with the shower water. Any shampoo he had managed to put on was gone, his hair already a sopping, wet mess. No one was around to watch his pathetic self anyway. 

Eventually, god knows after how long, the showerhead started depositing cold water onto his body. Shocked by the change in temperature, Dan managed to reach out and turn off the water. His bill this month was going to be expensive as hell. 

Stepping out of the shower, he thought of putting some clothes on, but decided against it. He was the only one in the house, and everyone he knew had already given up coming to his house to check on him. 

Slipping right back into bed, he put a little reminder in his phone to call his therapist. Somewhere between the cold water and the clothes debate, he had stopped crying. An improvement. He was beginning to get used to crying himself to sleep. 

Sighing, he covered himself in his fluffy grey blanket that was reserved for bad days and fell asleep, awaiting the nightmares that evaded his dreams. 

Every day just kept getting better and better.

**Author's Note:**

> hey hope you enjoyed my story! if you wish to follow up with it, updates are on sunday. head over to my tumblr @vsoftdnp! this was written for the phandom reverse bang and beta'd by @phanandpenguins


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